Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Albert Ayler to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pussy Galore,
Isaac Hayes,
Second Layer,
Maurizio,
Scratch Acid,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
The Modern Lovers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eden Ahbez,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
Popol Vuh,
The Five Americans,
Monks,
World's Most,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cymande,
The Moleskins,
Ossler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barrington Levy,
One Last Wish,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül II,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
Lungfish,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mummies,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Albert Ayler,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABC,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slackers,
Camouflage,
Rotary Connection,
Amazonics,
Sam Rivers,
Josef K,
Warren Ellis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Negative Approach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Con Funk Shun,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Connie Case,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.